


And I Hear Your Ship Is Coming In (Your Tears A Sea For Me To Swim)

by davricks



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 10:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20044555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/davricks/pseuds/davricks
Summary: I am so sorry (no I'm not). I hurt myself with this, and now I must hurt you too.





	And I Hear Your Ship Is Coming In (Your Tears A Sea For Me To Swim)

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry (no I'm not). I hurt myself with this, and now I must hurt you too.

**Thankful**

It was something he heard a lot. That he should be thankful, that is. Dragged from his own home and dropped somewhere far away. Fish out of water. _Kraken out of water. _

The wolves' den was warm and inviting enough, in appearance. In certain ways. He grew to love the wolves themselves, all wild fur and wound-licking tongues.

The only thing he could ever be thankful for; new brothers, and a new chance at proving himself a good son in this place, if ever he were a son at all.

_Like most everything in his life, he could not manage even that._

**Hurt**

He had quite liked inhabiting a body for the majority of his existence.

The pleasure of being alive was indescribable. Fresh meat, rich wine, the sun on one's face, or the cool glide of a flowing river. The soft hands and warm press of a woman beside him.

But _this _was more than any indescribable thing he had felt. _Hot, blinding. _Was he still screaming? Was that _his _voice? He could no longer discern what was real and what his reeling, aching head was conjuring. The mind will do a lot to pretend it is anywhere but Hell.

_Let the sea take him._

**Endless** _  
_

The chill of the sea could not compare to this cutting wind. He did not remember how long they had been going on. A small hand gripped tight in his. His ribs cried out underneath his freezing flesh, cracked from the fall. Chilled hair beginning to form icicles on his forehead, and _her. _She was gasping for air, nearly _convulsing_ to keep warm.

Still, they ran. Their aching legs, their pounding hearts, their wild eyes ablaze with a terrific light, as if to say _I am alive, you will not have me today or ever. _A dog brayed somewhere off in the trees.

_How far does a desperate man run?_

**Open **

Even when she bared her claws he could feel it from her. A warmth, sometimes calm and soothing. Sometimes a blaze of anger building up. And here, again. Her open door, her open arms. He could not stifle her tears, did not want to. Who had ever cried for him? Who would ever?

For the first time in perhaps many years, he stood between those chilled stone walls and felt _safe. _He had said to her, _if you'll have me _and all he needed of her response was that precious moment when her arms enveloped him and her pretty little head hid in the crook of his shoulder. She needn't say it. He heard her clearly, _yes. _And more importantly, he knew he was forgiven.

T_wo broken pieces do not a whole person make. _

**Never**

Only once did he see those tears. He wasn't allowed a second time, although there was a second time, in spite of his belief. To die doesn't remake a man, but he had already been destroyed and remade time and time again. What was once more?

A silver wolf's head over his heart, and kind, gentle hands to place it there. His duality, and his torment. The sea he showed the world, and the ice he had held in secret within him. Burn it all away and start again.

Bless him with iron and bless him with salt.

_They could have, but they didn't. _


End file.
